Shrader: The school bell, it tolls for us all

Published: Thursday, August 28, 2014 at 06:34 PM.

She left a very nice message on my voicemail telling me what a great writer she thinks I am — something she’d never probably have realized when I was in her class, slaving away over equations.

I hope every student can find that one teacher, either the one who throws caution to the wind and helps them prank another student or the one — 20-plus years later — who chooses to call them up one day and give them a little lift.

Jennifer Shrader is the managing editor of The Free Press; her column appears in this space every Friday. You can reach her at 252-559-1079 or at Jennifer.Shrader@Kinston.com. Follow her on Twitter at jenjshrader.

As of today, public schools in Lenoir and Greene counties will have been in session for a full week, private schools for two.

I can’t say that I ever loved school. I loved shopping for all the “stuff” associated with it, and I liked getting all the new books on the first day, along with the concept of that fresh start every fall.
Then, reality would set in.

On Monday afternoon, a friend posted a photo of her first-grader at the end of her first day. It was obvious by the photo, things had not gone well.

I feel ya, kid.

On my very first day of kindergarten, before classes even started, I got into a fight with a fourth-grader in the hall. To this day I can hear the principal’s voice in my mind, the principal who was in the early stages of emphysema, yelling, “Hey you kids! Knock it off!”

Sometimes, school can be one memorable experience after another. While in kindergarten, another student took a magic marker and drew on my face. When I went to the teacher, she laughed at me.

To this day, I’m more mad at her than the other kid. In fact, he and I somehow wound up as friends on Facebook a couple years ago. He didn’t remember the incident, but admitted he was an idiot back then and shouldn’t have done it. I think the professionals call that closure.

It wasn’t all bad.

My fifth-grade teacher actually helped me prank another student on the last day of class. He’d done something (I don’t even remember now, but I’m sure it was devastating for an 11-year-old) and to this day I have no idea what possessed her, but she picked me up at my house the night before the last day and we went to the school and filled his locker with styrofoam peanuts. She’d obviously done this before, she had a system of how to get the peanuts in and the locker closed. I was impressed.

He never knew it was us and I’ve never forgotten her kindness.

I was reminded of my school years recently when I got to work and found, of all things, a message from my middle school algebra teacher.

It’s important to note here how badly I was at math. My skills peaked out early in the numbers department.

That’s what makes getting a message from Mrs. Starman about my writing so very ironic.

Since I’ve been writing stories about my childhood lately, I’ve been sending them to my mother. My mother, evidently, ran into Mrs. Starman and she read them.

She left a very nice message on my voicemail telling me what a great writer she thinks I am — something she’d never probably have realized when I was in her class, slaving away over equations.

I hope every student can find that one teacher, either the one who throws caution to the wind and helps them prank another student or the one — 20-plus years later — who chooses to call them up one day and give them a little lift.

Jennifer Shrader is the managing editor of The Free Press; her column appears in this space every Friday. You can reach her at 252-559-1079 or at Jennifer.Shrader@Kinston.com. Follow her on Twitter at jenjshrader.